The Duchess de la Vallière A Play In Five Acts |
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 | The Duchess de la Vallière |  |
SCENE II.
Enter Mademoiselle de la Vallière.MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
He loves me, then! He loves me! Love! wild word!
Did I say love? Dishonour, shame, and crime
Dwell on the thought! And yet—and yet—he loves me!
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Mine early dreams were prophets!—Steps! The King?
BRAGELONE.
No, lady; pardon me!—a joint mistake;
You sought the King—and I Louise la Vallière!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
You here, my Lord!—you here!
BRAGELONE.
There was a maiden
Fairer than many fair; but sweet and humble,
And good and spotless, through the vale of life
She walked, her modest path with blessings strewed;
(For all men bless'd her;) from her crystal name,
Like the breath i'the mirror, even envy passed:
I sought that maiden at the court; none knew her.
May I ask you—where now Louise la Vallière?
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Cruel!—unjust!—You were my father's friend,
Dare you speak thus to me?
BRAGELONE.
Dare! dare!—'Tis well!
You have learnt your state betimes!—
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My state, my Lord!
I know not by what right you thus assume
The privilege of insult!
BRAGELONE.
Ay, reproach!
The harlot's trick—for shame! Oh, no, your pardon!
You are too high for shame: and so—farewell!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
My Lord!—my Lord, in pity—No!—in justice,
Leave me not thus!
BRAGELONE.
Louise!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Have they belied me?
Speak, my good Lord!—What crime have I committed?
BRAGELONE.
No crime—at courts! 'Tis only Heaven and Honour
That deem it aught but—most admired good fortune!
Many, who swept in careless pride before
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Will now fawn round thee, and with bended knees
Implore sweet favour of the King's kind mistress.
Ha! ha!—this is not crime! Who calls it crime?
Do prudes say ‘Crime?’ Go, bribe them, and they'll swear
Its name is greatness. Crime, indeed!—ha! ha!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
My heart finds words at length!—'Tis false!
BRAGELONE.
'Tis false!
Why, speak again! Say once more it is false—
'Tis false!—again, 'tis false!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
O God, I'm wretched!
BRAGELONE.
No, lady, no! not wretched, if not guilty!
(Mademoiselle de la Vallière, after walking to and fro in great agitation, seats herself on one of the benches of the garden, and covers her face with her hands.)
BRAGELONE
(aside.)
Are these the tokens of remorse? No matter!
I loved her well!—And love is pride, not love,
If it forsake ev'n guilt amidst its sorrows!
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Louise! Louise!—Speak to thy friend, Louise!
Thy father's friend!—thine own!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
This hated court!
Why came I hither?—Wherefore have I closed
My heart against its own most pleading dictates?
Why clung to virtue, if the brand of vice
Sear my good name?—
BRAGELONE.
That, when thou pray'st to God,
Thy soul may ask for comfort—not forgiveness!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
(rising eagerly.)
A blessed thought!—I thank thee!
BRAGELONE.
Thou art innocent!
Thou hast denied the King?
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I have denied him!
BRAGELONE.
Curs'd be the lies that wrong'd thee!—doubly curst
The hard, the icy selfishness of soul,
That, but to pander to an hour's caprice,
Blasted that flower of life—fair fame! Accurst
The King who casts his purple o'er his vices!
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Hold!—thou malign'st thy king!
BRAGELONE.
He spared not thee!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
The king—God bless him!
BRAGELONE.
Wouldst thou madden me?
Thou!—No—thou lov'st him not?—thou hid'st thy face!
Woman, thou tremblest! Lord of Hosts, for this
Hast thou preserved me from the foeman's sword,
And through the incarnadined and raging seas
Of war upheld my steps?—made life and soul
The sleepless priests to that fair idol—Honour?
Was it for this?—I loved thee not, Louise,
As gallants love! Thou wert this life's IDEAL,
Breathing through earth the Lovely and the Holy,
And clothing Poetry in human beauty!
When in this gloomy world they spoke of sin,
I thought of thee, and smiled—for thou wert sinless!
And when they told of some diviner act
That made our nature noble, my heart whispered—
‘So would have done Louise!’—'Twas thus I loved thee!
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With thee, all hope, all confidence, of virtue—
This—this is hard!—Oh! I am sick of earth!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Nay, speak not thus!—be gentle with me. Come,
I am not what thou deem'st me, Bragelone;
Woman I am, and weak. Support, advise me!
Forget the lover, but be still the friend.
Do not desert me—thou!
BRAGELONE.
Thou lov'st the King!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
But I can fly from love!
BRAGELONE.
Poor child! And whither?
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Take me to the old castle, to my mother!
BRAGELONE.
The king can reach thee there!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
He'll not attempt it.
Alas! in courts, how quickly men forget!
BRAGELONE.
Not till their victim hath surrendered all!
Hadst thou but yielded, why thou mightst have lived
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But thus, with all thy bloom of heart unrifled,—
The fortress stormed, not conquered,—why man's pride,
If not man's lust, would shut thee from escape!
Art thou in earnest,—wouldst thou truly fly
From gorgeous infamy to tranquil honour,
God's house alone may shelter thee!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
The convent!
Alas! alas! to meet those eyes no more!
Never to hear that voice!
BRAGELONE
(departing.)
Enough.
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Yet, stay!
I'll see him once! one last farewell—and then—
Yes, to the convent!
BRAGELONE.
I have done!—and yet,
Ere I depart, take back the scarf thou gav'st me.
Then didst ‘thou honour worth!’ now, gift and giver
Alike are worthless!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Worthless! Didst thou hear me?
Have I not said that—
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Thou wouldst see the King!
Vice first, and virtue after! O'er the marge
Of the abyss thou tremblest! One step more,
And from all heaven the Angels shall cry ‘Lost!’
Thou ask'st that single step! Wouldst thou be saved,
Lose not a moment!—Come!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE
(in great agony.)
Beside that tree,
When stars shone soft, he vowed for aye to love me!
BRAGELONE.
Think of thy mother! At this very hour
She blesses God that thou wert born—the last
Fair scion of a proud and stainless race!
To-morrow, and thy shame may cast a shade
Over a hundred 'scutcheons, and thy mother
Feel thou wert born that she might long to die!
Come!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I am ready—take my hand!
(Her eye falls on the bracelet.)
Away!
This is his gift! And shall I leave him thus?
Not one kind word to break the shock of parting—
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And break a mother's heart!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Be still! Thou'rt man!
Thou canst not feel as woman feels!—her weakness
Thou canst not sound! O Louis, Heaven protect thee!
May Fate look on thee with La Vallière's eyes!
Now I am ready, sir! Thou'st seen how weak
Woman is ever where she loves. Now, learn,
Proportioned to that weakness is the strength
With which she conquers love!—O Louis! Louis!
Quick! take me hence!—
BRAGELONE.
The heart she wrongs hath saved her!
And is that all!—The shelter for mine age—
The Hope that was the garner for Affection—
The fair and lovely tree, beneath whose shade
The wearied soldier thought to rest at last,
And watch life's sun go calm and cloudless down,
Smiling the day to sleep—all, all lie shattered!
No matter! I have saved thy soul from sorrow,
Whose hideous depth thy vision cannot fathom.
Joy!—I have saved thee!
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Ah! when last we parted,
I told thee, of thy love I was not worthy.
Another shall replace me!
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(smiling sadly.)
Hush! Another!
No!—See, I wear thy colours still!—Though Hope
Wanes from the plate, the dial still remains,
And takes no light from stars! I—I am nothing!
But thou—Nay, weep not! Yet these tears are honest:
Thou hast not lived to make the Past one blot,
Which life in vain would weep away! Poor maiden!
I could not cheer thee then. Now, joy!—I've saved thee!
[Exeunt Mademoiselle de la Vallière and Bragelone.
| The Duchess de la Vallière | |